The tides of propriety recede
leaving the sharp tang of mineral salts
on the shifting breeze
the rich rot of seaweed
You’ve seen it all before
It’s only birth’s reverse
Yet this time the one you carry
is not in your oceanic belly
but on your back
Nothing really prepares you
For the innocuous octopus
pulsing bright blue with rage
till your own kraken wakes
As you stagger on
the coral cuts your feet
she shrinks and grows lighter
than a hermit crab
the uncut umbilicus
transluces as you travel
towards the deep water
causing an aching
tenderness to be borne
along with the claws
pinching your sun-stung skin
The pain is real, but also the treasure
in the rock pools thus revealed